


Breathe Again... I'll be coming home

by perioddramagirl



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fairy Tale Style, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, My First Smut, Relationship(s), Romance, monchevy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 00:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11703405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perioddramagirl/pseuds/perioddramagirl
Summary: Philippe is an artist and Chevy is a Wall Street James Dean, aka the ultimate devoted boyfriend.  Modern AU.  They separate for three months but it only takes three days to get back together.  Philippe never sings but has a cheeky playlist on his phone.





	1. Chevy is a movie star and Philippe is furious

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by waroftheposes to write something about these boys.  
> Of course, I do not own any of these characters or references used in the story.
> 
> You may find me on Tumblr @perioddramagirl

“No way!  Do you even know what you’re asking me to do?”  Not believing what he just heard, Philippe stands up in a rage from the sofa where he was seated, and storms towards his brother’s office desk.

“Brother, I need you to do this for me.  For the company.  It’s just for about a year and then you can break it off.”  Louis sits calmly in his office with an uninterrupted view of La Grande Arche from the floor-to-ceiling window behind him.  

“You have to be kidding me!”  Philippe is boiling now.  “Did you ever consider discussing with me while you were planning this?”

“I spoke to mother-”

“And you didn’t include me?”  The volcano in Philippe’s stomach is about to explode. “Who are you?  Are you even my brother?”  Louis looks at Philippe pensively, but doesn’t speak.  “And since when did you need my help with the company?”

“There are certain things that only the Chairman of the company can know.  For example, after we announce your engagement, stocks will go up because of speculations for potential mergers.”

Philippe is sure that Louis is making it sound complicated that Philippe would not ask further questions.  He keeps quiet as Louis continues.

“Think about it this way, you can now start a bridal collection or whatever you people call it.  I’m sure it will be great publicity for your atelier.”

Philippe looks at him with disbelief.  He really shouldn't be too surprised by his brother’s comment because all through their lives, whenever Louis asks Philippe to do something, he always twists it around to make it look like Philippe would benefit too.  Every.  Single.  Time.

On some other occasions, usually when Philippe’s personal interests are not at stake, he has secretly admired how his brother who is not yet thirty is able to head such a huge international conglomerate as the Bourbon Enterprise.  However, today is not the day to think about this.  Today he has a battle to fight.

“I will not do it.”  Philippe turns around and start walking towards the door.  

“You know, it wasn't really a request.”  Louis says, still calm and composed.  Philippe stops in front of the door.  “Charles and I have already made a deal.  We are announcing your engagement to Henriette tonight at mother’s birthday party.  There will be media too, so don’t be late.”

 

And that was it.  Philippe opens the door with a loud bang and barges out, heading straight into the private elevator.   _Damn Louis. Damn him and his advisors. Damn the company.  Just damn._

Philippe needs to get out.  Out of the elevator and out of this building.  He cannot press the elevator buttons fast enough.  He barely just walked out of the massive glass door at building lobby when his phone rings.  Philippe doesn’t even have to look to know that it can only be one person. 

“Mother, if you think-” Philippe tries but can’t hide the irritation in his voice.

“My son, you must be upset.”  A calm and calculated tone.

A mother knows her children well.  When Louis told her earlier that morning about the engagement, Anne knew what Philippe’s reaction would be, and she knew she had to put her hand in the matter.  

“When your father died and you were so young, your brother took the role of a petit papa.”  Placing a strong emphasis on the last two words, Anne pauses a little before she continues.  “His decisions may not always make you happy, but it’s always for the best interest of the family and the company.” 

Philippe knows it.  He knows that his mother would play the “family duty” card on him.  He knows that eventually he would have no choice but to succumb and surrender.  What Philippe doesn't understand is that why his mother always sides with Louis.   _Why can't she try to understand?  Why can't she at least pretend that she cares?_

“Mother…”  Philippe doesn’t know what to say.   _What do you say to your mother when she asks you to take one for the family?_  He does not want to give his mother the answer she wants either.  “I really can’t talk-”

“So will I see you tonight at the party?” Anne knows she has to push for it.  

A deep sigh.  Followed by silence.

“Philippe?”  

“Happy birthday, mother, if I don’t see you tonight.”  Philippe hangs up before his mother can say anything anymore.

Instead of heading back to his atelier like he’s supposed to, Philippe wanders around aimlessly.  He cuts through herds of tourists around L’Arc de Triomphe and along Champs-Élysées, his mind replaying the incidents that just took place.  He is obviously still angry at Louis and mother, but he is also starting to see how he cannot escape this call for “duty”.  It’s not like he can just cut his entire family out of his life.   

When he absent-mindedly strolled into Jardin des Tuileries, he does not relish the smell of Spring or marvel at the colours like he would normally do.  Instead, his anger towards his brother is now replaced by a feeling of contempt for himself.  Why did he not protest stronger in front of Louis?  Would any form of protest be enough to sway him?  Or should he have pleaded instead?  Would Louis have listened?  Or should he have implored his mother?  

By the time he realizes that he is standing at the Pyramide, he decides to walk back to his apartment near Place des Vosges.  

 

Located inside a 17th century building, the apartment is something that Philippe is quite proud of.  That is, second to his life-long relationship with his boyfriend.  They moved in three years ago when they returned from New York after graduation.  The unique smell of old waxed Parisian wooden floor gives the apartment a soul.  Not to mention that Philippe took great pains to restore the fireplace, added a long marble bar table next to the open kitchen, and redecorated the bedroom overlooking a courtyard.    

Once inside, he throws himself onto the sofa, plucks his phone to the home sound system, and turns it to top volume.

    _So you can keep me_  
_Inside the pocket_  
_Of your ripped jeans_  
_Holdin' me closer_  
_'Til our eyes meet_  
_You won't ever be alone_ _  
Wait for me to come home_

Philippe’s eyes are still closed when he hears the keys at the door.  A part of him wants to sit up and greet his boyfriend returning home from work with a smile.  Another part of him is panicking over how to tell his boyfriend about his brother and mother’s grand scheme.

“Philippe?” Chevy sounds a little surprised.  “Shouldn’t you be getting dressed for your mom’s party?”  

“I’m not sure I’m going.”  Philippe answers with his eyes still shut.  

“What’s wrong?”  

“Don’t ask.  Just… don’t ask.”  He opens his eyes to look at Chevy.  Chevy in his favourite navy blue suit, dark blond hair combed to the back.  Chevy looking like a poshed-up glam James Dean.  Philippe wonders briefly what he has done in his past life to deserve having this man standing in his living room.  

Philippe wants to ask Chevy to sit in silence with him but he also wants to talk to him.  He wants the world to leave him alone but he also wants Chevy to pull him into those familiar arms and kiss him so fierce that he will not be able to think.  

Except that Chevy does not do any of that.  He just stands there and looks at Philippe with uncertainty and even melancholy in his eyes.  After a few minutes, Chevy starts walking towards their bedroom.  If Philippe smells an undeniable whiff of alcohol waltzing in the air, he does not say anything.  

The fact is, Philippe really does not know what to say.  How does one tell one’s boyfriend that one’s brother and mother arranged a fake engagement for the sake of stock prices?  The worst part is, how does one begin to explain that one will eventually have to agree, and has no choice but to ask one’s boyfriend to put up with a stupid charade?  What kind of person would do that to the person they love? What kind of boyfriend does that make Philippe?

“Will you just tell me what’s wrong?  Because I hate this... whatever this is now.”  Chevy comes back into the living room still dressed in the same suit, hair slightly disheveled.  Philippe picked up a hint of impatience in Chevy’s voice.

“Well, don’t you think I hate this too?  Do you think I enjoy being manipulated my entire life?”  A sudden rush of fury surges through Philippe.  “Don’t you think I just hate everything in my life?”

“Darling, did something happen today?  You can tell me-”

“No, I can’t tell you.  Because I don’t know how to tell you.  Because I want you to understand without me telling you.”

Silence.

“Mignonette-”

“Don't mignonette me!”

 _When you feel my heat_  
_Look into my eyes_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_Don't get too close_  
_It's dark inside_  
_It's where my demons hide_

“Talk to me.”  Chevy takes a deep breath before he continues. “Or do you want me to leave?”

“Oh great!  Go ahead, leave.”  Philippe doesn’t know what got into him.  But if Chevy wants to leave him in this moment, Philippe will not stop him.

“Philippe-”

“LEAVE.”

Chevy looks like there’s something he wants to say, but decides to swallow his words the last minute.  

“Your wish, my command,” is what he says finally.

Philippe watches him slowly grabs his keys and wallet from the bar table leading to the entrance hall.  By the time Philippe hears the closing sound of the door, all he can think of is Chevy’s voice and Chevy’s face and Chevy’s hair and Chevy’s smell and _Oh shit what have I done_.  

 _I knew I loved you then_  
_But you'd never know_  
_'Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go_  
_I knew I needed you_  
_But I never showed_  
_But I wanna stay with you_  
_Until we're grey and old_ _  
Just say you won't let go_

 


	2. Chevy might leave and Philippe is fine

Standing beside the window in his brother’s office decked in oak wood wall panels and leather furniture, Chevy looks down onto Central Park below.  People pushing baby prams, people jogging around, people queuing up for the museum, people soaking up the sun, people enjoying life in general.  Unlike him.

“Chev, did you hear me?”

“Huh? Of course! The merger-”

“ _Potential_ merger.”  Chevy’s brother corrects him.  “Anyway, the Bourbons and the Stuarts want to…”

 

And Chevy’s mind is off again.  It brings him back to an afternoon in Paris three months ago.  His brother had just been promoted to head the American branch of Bourbon Enterprise headquartered in New York, and was head-over-heels elated.  His team was throwing a small celebration party in the office.

“Chevy, you’re coming with me, right?  I need you by my side.”  Louis de Lorraine had always been bright, and is smarter and quicker than most men of his age. Together with his kind and amiable personality, no one in the office considered this promotion to be the result of his friendship with Chairman Louis, even though the two families do have an entangled history dating decades back.    

Chevy and Louis’ father was a trusted wingman of the late Chairman of Bourbon Enterprise, and had contributed a great deal to numerous battles in boardroom negotiations.  Their mother is one of Anne de Bourbon’s best friends.  The children of both families have known each other since the beginning of time.  Like their father, Chevy’s brother became the new Chairman’s trusted friend and right-hand wingman.   

Funny enough, both families’ eldest sons are named Louis, while the second sons are named Philippe.  But Chevy’s father had been calling him ‘Chevy’ since he was three.  And so did everybody else.

“As much as I want to be your slave, brother, I’m not sure about going to New York.”  Chevy jokes, but doesn't want to lie.  He downs the Armagnac he’s been holding.

“Because of Philippe?  But I’m sure he will understand.  This will be great for your career.  What’s the use of a Business Degree from Columbia when you don’t put it to practice?”  

“What do you think I’m doing here in Paris?”

“I know you’ve received quite a few offers from Wall Street but you chose Paris because of Philippe.  This is different though.  We will go down in history when we take over America!  Think about it!”  

As tempting as that sounds, Chevy could not bare the thought of living separately from Philippe.  Not for a day.  Not even for a 9-hour flight away.  He downed another shot of Armagnac.

“Thanks, but-”

“Look, don’t answer me now.  Go home and talk to Philippe.  We can talk tomorrow, ok?”

“Alright.  Congrats again.  Truly well-deserved.  I’m sure Catherine and the kids can’t wait to see the Statue of Liberty.”

 

Instead of taking a taxi home like he normally would, he decided to walk.  He cut through herds of tourists, passed through the garden, circled around the Pyramide, and did not even realize that he had arrived at Place des Vosges.  During the walk, all he could think of is _Should I tell Philippe?  What should I tell him?  How do I tell him?_

When he entered the apartment, Philippe’s favourite music was blasting in the air, on top of a certain vibe of je-ne-sais-pas-quoi.  Chevy looked at his boyfriend - lying on the sofa with eyes closed, messy dark curls covering half of his beautiful face - and thought to himself _Thank God he’s mine_.

  _It's been a long day without you, my friend_ _  
_ _And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again_ _  
_ _We've come a long way from where we began_ _  
_ _Oh, I'll tell you all about it_  
_When I see you again_

 When Philippe refused to talk to him, Chevy was sure that Philippe probably knew what happened.  He was sure that Philippe heard about his brother’s promotion.  And naturally, Philippe must have guessed that Chevy was tempted to consider the move too.  

“Don’t mignonette me!”

Chevy could hear the resentment in Philippe’s voice.  Could feel Philippe’s blood boiling.  He wanted to sit quietly next to Philippe as much as he wanted to wrap his arms around him.  He wanted to talk to Philippe as much as he wanted to pull him in and kiss him senseless.  

When Philippe told him to leave, he told himself _Philippe’s fury will pass._  Chevy would just leave him alone for a while.  He would call Chevy the next morning, and everything would be fine.  

Except that Philippe did not call the next day.  Nor the second day.  Nor the third.  On the fourth day, Chevy decided to transfer all calls to voicemail so that he would not get his hopes high every time the damn phone rang.  Two weeks later, Chevy got a ticket and joined his brother in New York.    

 

“Chev, you got all that?”  Present day Chevy was startled by his brother’s sudden hand on his shoulder and jumps.  “Were you even listening to me?”

“Yes, sorry.  Don’t worry, I’ll get your files ready.”

“And don’t forget tonight’s cocktail at The Frick.”  Louis de Lorraine doesn’t know since when he has become his brother’s secretary.

“Yeah, yeah.  What’s that for again?”  

A sigh from the older brother.  “It’s Louis’ birthday in two weeks and the Italians want to throw him a party.  They need a big investor like Bourbon Enterprise.”

_Louis’ birthday.  OH FUCK!_

“Who will be there, at the party?” Chevy is cautious not to sound too anxious.  But a brother is not a true brother if he doesn’t pick up the jittery tone in one’s voice.

“If you mean ‘Will Philippe be there?’ the answer is yes.  All of them will be there.”  Chevy’s brother asks with eyes fixed on him.  “Are you boys still fighting?  It’s not the engagement, is it?”

Chevy shrugs like he doesn’t mind that the man he’s loved all his life is engaged to someone who is not himself.  He does mind very much.  But there’s a more pressing problem at hand.   _Philippe will be there._ Philippe under the same roof with him.  Philippe whom he misses like crazy.  Philippe whom he wants to kiss and fight at the same time.   _Philippe will be there!_   _Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!_

“Hey, I gotta go powder my nose so if you’ll excuse me.”  Chevy made a quick turn to get out of his brother’s office to avoid any questions.  

  
He runs straight into the men’s room and locks himself in one of the cabins.   _Calm down, Chevy.  Get your shit together.  You will go to the party tonight just as your brother expects you to.  Just like a normal grown-up adult would.  You can do this._ He pulls himself straight and walks back out to the office.  If he gets irritated by everything and everyone the entire afternoon, his co workers do not mention it.

 


	3. Philippe needs reinforcement

Liselotte is sitting in Bryant Park, people watching as she takes snaps from afar.  She’s watching a mother and daughter reading a book together and was about to hold up her camera when her phone rings.  She flicks it on and the caller immediately speaks in a frantic tone.

 

“Lizzie, help! Please tell me you have a few hours to spare tonight.”

“P?  You in town?  What’s up?”

“Just landed this morning.  Long story.  Louis is making me go to a party that I cannot get away from.  I need you.”

“Won't you be going with your fiance and be the ‘Hottest Couple of the Year’?”

“Ha ha, very funny.  Lizzie, I’m serious, I really need you.”

“For what?”

“HE will be there tonight and I need reinforcement.  I don't know if I will have a proper breakdown if I see him.”  

Lizzie pauses and makes a face.  But it’s not like Philippe can see it from his end.  “Alright, but you’re helping me pick a dress.”

“Don’t worry, I got that covered.”

“Where should I meet you?”

“Actually, I’m on my way to your apartment.”

“Someday i’m gonna make you pay me back for all that i’ve done these past few months.”

“For you, i’ll do anything.  I can even donate sperms if you and your future wife wants.”

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea.”  Liselotte picks up her belongings and walks back to her apartment.

 

Philippe puts the phone back in his pocket and looks out of the taxi window.  Philippe is so glad he became friends with Liselotte when they were studying at Parsons.  Like the photographs she takes, Lizzie is someone who says what she thinks and thinks what she says.  And Philippe is not sure if he would still be alive if she wasn’t there for the past three months.  

But even with his best friend by his side, Philippe is extremely nervous about tonight.  He had protested to Louis numerous times, what with his busy schedule at the atelier, and the sketches that need to be finished.  He might have even mentioned that his head hurts so bad that it’s about to explode.   _Which is not a lie_ .  But Louis wouldn't listen.  Not that he ever listened.  Louis simply said _I need you to show up with Henriette and take a few pictures_.  

Of course, Philippe shouldn't be too surprised that he will have to meet Chevy eventually.  Given that their lives basically revolve around one another.  It’s just that he isn't prepared to do this so soon.   _Or is it too soon?  How long does it take to mend one’s heart?  How to mend it?  Can it ever be mended?_

Philippe is so lost in his thoughts that he does not realize Liselotte is standing in front of him.

“Oh, you’re here.  Thanks for doing this!”  Philippe hugs Liselotte before holding up the dress wrapped in plastic cover.  “I think you will look great in this.”

 

 


	4. Philippe needs to grow up

As somebody who is born to an aristocratic family with a rich history and a great understanding of how to socialize and charm, Chevy normally floats around events and parties like a proper movie star.  It’s second nature for him to strike up conversations with people he has never met.

Of course, tonight is not one of those nights.  _What do i do when I see him?  Walk over and say hello?  Pretend that I don't see him and wait for him to come over?_ He’s still thinking about this when he arrives at the entrance hall and bumps into the person he does not want to see.  Well, the second person in line.

“Hello stranger.  Haven't seen you for a long time!”  Henriette approaches Chevy with a big smile, but not big enough to rival the diamonds on her necklace.

“Yeah, I’m mostly in New York now. Nice dress!”

“Thanks. Hey, what happened to you and Philippe-”

“Hey, I saw your face at the newsstand the other day.  Now, which magazine was it, I forgot...”  Obviously trying to avoid the previous topic, Chevy hopes Henriette doesn't think he’s too desperate.

And Henriette doesn’t. Because her eyes just lit up about a hundred times.

“British Vogue!  Did you like the photo?  There’re a few more on the inside pages.  Did you read what the editor said about the shoot?”

“Of course!  Love what they did with your hair too!”

Chevy lets Henriette continue to talk about that fashion shoot for a bit, before he excuses himself.  And if he spots the sparkly as hell engagement ring on her finger, he pretends that he didn’t.

Chevy heard about the ‘engagement’ after he left Paris.  He had guessed that it was a charade.  Probably one of Louis’ idea to somehow benefit his enterprise.  And he doesn’t hate Henriette as a person.  He knows that Philippe and her were once close friends.  What irks him is that he knows Philippe probably hates this charade as much as he does, but Chevy is not there to talk him out of his misery.    
  
Chevy passes the grand staircase where a few opera singers are performing, walks across a few halls where he makes a few necessary handshakes and smiles for some group photos.

_L’amour est un oiseau rebelle_   
_Que nul ne peut apprivoiser_   
_Et c’est bien in vain qu’on l’appelle_   
_S’il lui convient de refuser_

Sometimes, Henriette is glad that people generally regard her as a simple-headed socialite from London who only wants to wear pretty dresses and be the center of attention.  Sometimes that is what she does, but on some occasions she can be quite a keen observer.

For example, just now, she has observed that Chevy is much thinner compared to the last time she saw him, with eyes looking extremely tired.  Somehow that man’s usual halo has dimmed a bit without his better half by his side.  She is also aware that Chevy was not actually participating in the conversation, eyes scanning the room, searching. _Probably looking for Philippe_ , Henriette thinks.

She’s known Philippe and Louis since she was a child.  Her crush on Louis started since she was fourteen when he casually complimented the colour of her eyes, and has never stopped.  He never stopped flirting with her too, not after he got married, and certainly not when Marie Therese fell pregnant shortly after.  At one point, Henriette almost thought that she would become his mistress, if he had asked.  But that never happened.  Instead, one day he asked her to fake engagement with Philippe.  She tells herself she only agrees to it because she wants to help her brother’s business.  But she is also aware of her secret wish to have any excuse to spend more time with Louis.  

The task itself is easy.  She and Philippe don't have to do much except a few interviews with society magazines, attend some events and have their pictures taken together.  Not forgetting that ring she got from Louis because of this.   _It’s strictly for business_ , she tells herself.  But she also cannot hide that wide grin on her face ever since she received it.

And Philippe is an easy person to be engaged to.  Most of the time they leave each other alone.  It’s just that lately he is usually either sulking in a corner or yelling angrily in the air after he’s drunk.

Henriette realizes that it’s almost time that she and Philippe take pictures together, as Louis reminded her earlier.  She walks around several halls until she finds Philippe in the garden, sitting next to Liselotte.  She flashes one of her signature smiles at Lizzie, at the same time slightly ponders why any girl would choose not to wear jewelry to a party.

Henriette then turns to Philippe.  “Your brother is looking for you.”

“Then he should come find me.”  Philippe answers without looking at her.  

“Come on, Philippe.  This is his party.  Can you just give him face?”  An unmistakable annoyance in her tone as she continues.  “And what’s the matter with you anyway?  Why can’t you try to look happy?  We still need to get our pictures done.”

Philippe glares at her.  He used to like Henriette but lately her eagerness to please Louis is making him sick to his stomach, literally.  He knows that the woman is just crazily obsessed with his brother and will not let go of any chance to get close to Louis.  Somehow he still despises her for constantly acting as Louis’ messenger especially when Philippe is deliberately trying to avoid his brother.  

“You do know that he will never love you the way you want him to?”

Startled by this sudden attack, Henriette stutters.  “I... don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Though every word of what he just said rings true.

“He only makes you think he likes you so that he can get you to do things for him.”  A pause.  

“And if he finally decides to take you to bed, you will only be one of his many lovers at any one point in time.”

Fighting back tears that are obviously swelling around her eyes, Henriette sniffs and clears her throat before saying, “I’ll be in the West Gallery if you finally decide to grow up.”

Philippe and Lizzie watch her turn around quickly and almost run, that is, if she could run in those heels.  

 

“Wow, I don’t want to say I’m sorry for her but I feel sorry for her.”  Always the practical one, Lizzie understands what Henriette was trying to say.  Of course, being first hand witness to Philippe’s misery for the past months also makes her understand why he lashed out on the poor girl.

“I need a drink.  Why don't you go do your job and then we can go have pizza.”  Lizzie finishes her cigarette, pads Philippe on the shoulder, and heads towards the bar.

As Lizzie waltzes away, Philippe hopes that he will continue to successfully avoid the person he’s been avoiding since he arrived.   _Since when did your life become so pathetic, Philippe?_  People attend events to meet other people, not to avoid.  And what if he can avoid Chevy?  Does he really want to?  Just tonight or for the rest of his life?  Can he even breathe if he can’t see Chevy for the rest of his life?

The truth is, Chevy has always been in Philippe’s life.  He cannot remember a time without his dark blonde hair, his goofy pranks during boring family trips, his charming wit at dinner tables, his soul-penetrating gaze at starry nights.  If he had known that one day he would have to live without any of that, he would have hugged Chevy more, said ‘I love you’ more, and might have even sang him a love song or two.  Never mind that Philippe never sings.

He remembers his mother telling him that the two mothers almost arranged a womb betrothal, given how close the mothers are.  Back then he had thought, _don't worry, we’ll be getting married anyway_.

Philippe takes a long drag and stands up.   _Get yourself together, Philippe.  People do not actually die from heartbreak.  No, they just die internally._ He drops his cigarette and heads to the West Gallery.

 


	5. Chevy did a pirouette and Philippe is sad

Liselotte is standing by the bar counter sipping Champagne when she sees a familiar figure coming into the room.  Except that he looks extremely frail and it borderlines on being problematic.  His dark blonde hair is still neatly combed back and he’s still impeccably dressed like a glam movie star, as Philippe once described to her with a little too much information.  

 

“Chevy!”  Lizzie waves her hand in the air as she calls out.  

“Lizzie?”  Chevy smiles as he starts walking towards her.  “You didn’t tell me you’re coming here.”

“I didn’t know I would be until 3 hours ago.”  Lizzie smiles back.  “I thought I’m supposed to be the one who needs to lose weight here.  What happened to you?”

Chevy smiles but doesn’t answer her question.  Her candid frankness is why he loves her more than his own dear sister.  Suddenly remembering something much more important, Chevy glances across Liselotte’s left and right.  Relieved to see that Lizzie is by herself, he can feel the muscles around his chest loosen up.    

“Relax, he’s probably with his brother or, you know, taking photos.”  Chevy knows that Lizzie swallowed the words “with Henriette” at the end of the sentence.

“I’m not asking.”    

“No, you were not.  But since I’ve been the marriage counsellor for what seems like an eternity now, I think I know you boys better than yourselves.”

“Can we not talk about this now?”  Chevy orders a shot of Armagnac at the bar.

“Of course.  I’m just not sure what else is on your mind cuz lately this is all you talk to me about.”  

Chevy scowls at her as she sticks out her tongue and continues.  “Look, why can’t the two of you just talk to each other instead of me?  You clearly still care for each other.”

Chevy downs his shot, and turns to Lizzie.  “Is that a proven fact?”

“I don’t want to violate my vows of secrecy.  I really think you should let him know how you feel.”  

“Maybe.”  Or maybe he should just get out of here now.  Chevy’s not sure if he can handle seeing the man right now, let alone talk to him.  But the irony is that Chevy does want to see him.  Wants more than anything to look at his beautiful face again.  He stares down at his empty glass and remembers the first time he truly saw the face of Philippe.  

 

It was summer when he was almost fourteen.  Chevy was looking for Philippe all over the Bourbon family estate’s vast landscaped garden, just outside of Paris.  Apparently, Philippe had just been reprimanded by his mother over some porridge fight with his brother.  

When Chevy found him, Philippe was sitting down by a statue in the middle of a hedge maze.  Eyes swollen and red.  “I can’t understand why Louis is always right.  Why is he always the center of everybody’s world?”

“Don’t cry, Philippe.  Here, hold me as I do a pirouette so you can be the center of my world.”  Chevy held Philippe’s hand and helped him get up before he mocked a clumsy turn and stumbled into Philippe.  

“Stop it.”  Philippe feigned discontent but could not suppress the faint smile on his face.

It has always been Chevy’s instinct to cheer up Philippe whenever there is pain and sadness in his bright eyes, to put a smile on his face.  

And what a gloriously beautiful face he has!  Golden sun shining on Philippe’s dark curls, through his long lashes onto his angelic features and fair skin.  Chevy was just CAPTIVATED.  He stared at the boy and felt heat advancing through his entire body as his heart beats so loud that he could not hear anything.  He also noticed that Philippe was staring back at him, eyes glowing.  It took all of his self control to stop himself from closing the distance between them and kiss- 

_Time to wake up, Chevy.  Stop doing this to yourself._

 

Looking up from his empty glass, Chevy turns to Liselotte.  “Hey, I better be going.”

“So soon?  You’re not going to wait for the cake cutting and all?”

“Nah, I’m sweet enough.  I’ll call you.”  

Chevy walks out of the bar and is about to walk out of the main door, when he suddenly makes a turn and decides to pay one last homage.  

 

 


	6. Chevy stares and Philippe stares back

Philippe walks into the West Gallery and immediately sees his brother, being surrounded by people like the center of the world that he is.  Standing next to Louis is his latest leading lady, Athenais.  

Originally an acquaintance of Henriette, Athenais had set her eagle eyes on Louis (and their family fortune) the first time she visited the Bourbon family estate with Henriette.  And as Philippe knows that his brother never says ‘no’ to any lady flinging herself at him, it would only be a matter of time that the two of them become lovers.  

So Philippe finds it a little satirical that Louis and Athenais are standing in front of Veronese’s The Choice between Virtue and Vice.  On another day he might even find this scene funny.  And for a minute he wonders how he and his brother can be so different - while he is struggling with his first and only relationship, his brother is a married man with two dozen lovers and counting.

 

That thought makes him sick.  Originally, he had wanted to come here and find Henriette so they can have their picture taken and finish the duty for the night.  But right now he’s too drained and tired to keep smiling and saying ‘oui’ and ‘biensur’ to people he doesn’t know.  He needs to get the hell out of here.  All of a sudden, a small group starts singing ‘Bon anniversaire’ and people from other halls starts to come in and gather around Louis.

_Perfect time to leave._

He bolts out immediately and walks through a couple of halls, and takes out his phone to text Lizzie.  Suddenly, he remembers something, and makes a right turn to walk into the Fragonard room, which should now be empty.  

Almost empty.  Not counting that one person standing with his back to Philippe, facing the paintings on the wall.  

_Oh. SHIT._

Philippe thinks about leaving, but his legs do not obey him.  He’s considering if he should turn around and pretend to admire the paintings when suddenly the man in front of him turns around, and Philippe’s heart beats so fast he thinks it might jump out of his body.  

Their eyes lock immediately.  And Philippe thinks that he will never be able to move his eyes away again.  

He wants to say something, but he cannot even gather up the strength to say ‘hello’.  All he could do was stand there frozen, and stare at this man he’s been missing for months.

 _Maybe my heart will finally give up on me now.  Maybe death would be better than this._

 

Chevy turns around and sees the person he can’t get his mind off for the past three months.  Three months and five days to be exact.  Chevy stands numbed.  This is what he’s been dreaming of.  Or trying to avoid.  He’s not sure anymore.  

Chevy doesn’t know what would be better – not being able to see Philippe, or having Philippe’s gaze penetrating into his soul.  Which, Chevy is certain, is what’s happening now.  

He is certain that Philippe is able to see that Chevy wants to place a hand on his face like he used to.  Wants more than anything to put his arm around him.  Longs to run a hand through his hair and kiss him.  Dying to just stand next to him.  

“Hi.”  Chevy finally managed to get one word out as he slowly walks over to Philippe.  

“Hi.”   

They then stand in silence for an eternity, just staring at each other.  Chevy is certain that Philippe can hear all the questions he has in his head.  

_How are you?_ _Do you miss me?_ _You look tired._ _Do you miss me?_ _Do you still sleep talk at night?_ _Do you miss me?_

“I-”

“Did you-”  

“Go ahead.”

“No, you go ahead.”

More silence.

“Why are you in here, and not over there?”  Chevy finally asks.

Philippe shrugs.  “Well, it’s not like I’m dying to sing happy birthday to my brother so…  Why are you in here?”  

“I think you know why.”  

And of course Philippe knows.  The Progress of Love paintings hanging on these walls are Philippe’s favourite works of art, and Philippe once told Chevy that one day when they can afford a bigger apartment, he would draw their own story and create their very own Fragonard room.

Philippe takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh.  He is thinking _how did we go from that to this?_

“How are you?” is what he asks.

“You know.”  Chevy shrugs and Philippe knows that Chevy still hates to talk about himself.  

“You lost weight.  Have you been eating at all?”  Philippe continues to ask questions, to keep Chevy here while he’s got him, to mask the crack in his voice, and to avoid himself from having a proper breakdown.  

Ignoring the question, Chevy’s gaze moves away and lands on The Lover Crowned painting on the wall.  Philippe’s gaze follows him.  Chevy stared at the painting for some time, and suddenly said, “I think I did a pretty good job with my version of that.”  There’s even a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yours was much better.”  Philippe mutters, barely able to contain his sorrow now.

 

Philippe was fourteen, and had just been told that he cannot play the part of Hermia in their school performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.   _Only girls can play the part of a girl._

After school, instead of finding Chevy waiting for him at the locker as always, he got a note that read ‘Meet me at the garden behind the school’.

Which Philippe did.  Except that he waited for more than an hour and was about to leave because he was mad and tired and hungry.  Then he saw an exasperated Chevy, panting and sweating, blond hair messy and out of place, carrying a slight devilish glint in his eyes, running towards him.

“Where were you and-”

“Hush… let’s go inside the pavilion.”

Once inside, Chevy presented Philippe a big bag from which he pulled out an off-shoulder Greek Goddess style dress that looks identical to the stage costume of Hermia.  Philippe looked at Chevy with wide eyes while Chevy gave him a mischievous smile.

“Put it on so we can take as many photos as you want.  And then we can send them to whoever thinks that you cannot play the part of a girl.”

Philippe laughed, obviously in love with the idea, but still trying to feign protest.  “But what about my hair?”

“The wigs are locked away and I couldn't get them.”  Chevy lowered his head a bit and said with a softer voice.  “So I made you this.”  Slowly, he took out a handmade flower crown and placed it on Philippe’s head.  The smell of Lilies of the Valley is Philippe’s favourite scent.

And Philippe was just ENDEARED.  Never in his life had anyone cared enough to do anything special for him.  To steal a dress for him.  To bend flowers and twigs for him.  To make him feel loved.  

Philippe suddenly felt something he never felt before.  Something inside his stomach... butterflies.  Tens, no hundreds, of butterflies fluttering in his stomach.  His heart, at the time, was pounding a hundred times faster than usual.  There’s a voice in his head telling him that there is only one thing to do to obtain peace of mind.

 

Present day Philippe wishes that he had kissed Chevy there and then.  He could have had this man for two more years.  If he only knew.  

“I think I’d better go.”  Chevy is the one who finally speaks.  

And Philippe watches Chevy slowly walk out of the room.

 

 


	7. Chevy is a terrible poet and Philippe is in love

One week later, sitting at the boarding gate at JFK waiting for his flight, Chevy watches the busy traffic beneath the planes that are neatly lined up along the gates.  

He cannot believe that he has to go to Paris.  Cannot believe that his brother actually RSVP for him join Louis’ birthday weekend at the Bourbon family estate.  Cannot believe that he will see Philippe again so soon.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to go to Paris.  It’s still his home.  It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Philippe.  After last week, the thought of seeing him is a little less nerve-wracking.  He has even promised Lizzie that he will find a chance to talk to Philippe.  It’s just that the act of physically stepping into the Bourbon family estate just outside of Paris is a little daunting for him now.

He remembers the enormous regal-looking gilded gates at the entrance, the curvilinear tree-lined cobbled driveway that leads up to the chateau, and the sizable lake next to it.  

 

It was Philippe’s sixteenth birthday and there was a big party at the chateau.  Chevy was sure that Philippe invited the entire school just to annoy his brother.

The dress code was ‘Favourite movie character’ and everybody was supposed to be in character the entire evening.  Philippe had been particularly secretive about his costume.  He even locked himself in his room all afternoon so that Chevy could not peek.

That evening, as people started to fill up the endless hallways and the countless rooms decorated with the Bourbon family portraits and their prized collection of objets d’art, Chevy searched for Philippe all over the place.  As he passed the corridors, he looked at himself in one of the mirrors.  Dressed in a military zip-up suit with sleeves rolled up, complete with aviators and army laced up boots, he looks like a candid hot shot Top Gun.

By that age, Chevy and Philippe had become inseparable.  Though they were not really dating, Chevy knew that some boys were jealous of his closeness to Philippe, who was widely popular at school.  He didn't mind having enemies, as long as Philippe continued to laugh at his jokes and smile at him every time they hold hands.  They held hands all the time.  For no particular reason.  Philippe started it and Chevy thought that Philippe could continue for as long as he wanted.

Chevy’s eyes continued to scan across the main hall, until they landed on a figure standing on top of the stairs.  

The dress - a figure-hugging white tank top tied by a metal ring to a blue mini skirt that barely covers the butt.  The boots - long black vinyl high heel boots that go all the way up the thighs.  The hair, oh the hair - a massive mane of long red voluminous curls with lush ringlets.  The look - one fine pretty woman.

He had always known that Philippe looks beautiful and sometimes angelic in dresses.  And in his dreams he had even imagined Philippe to be hot, but this - this - is not what he was prepared for.  This indecently arousing image of his crush made his wildest fantasy seemed weak.

As Philippe slowly walked down the stairs, people flooded towards him to pay compliments.  And though Philippe generally responded with a ‘hello’ or ‘thank you’, he kept his eyes fixed on Chevy with a flirtatious smile, just as Chevy kept staring back at him.  Chevy decided to stay where he was, a bit further away from the stairs, trying to look unfazed.  Philippe continued towards Chevy until the two of them were just inches apart.

“You look smashing, officer.”  Philippe said with a low husky voice.  He then put a hand on Chevy’s chest.  “Why are you by yourself?  Have you not met anyone you fancy tonight?”  The last part was mostly whispered to Chevy’s face.

“I think I just did.”  Chevy smirked.   _Two could play this game._  

“Then are you going to do something about it?”  Philippe asked through lowered lashes.  

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“You see, I’m facing a dilemma right now.  Do I ignore my burning desire to dance with the object of my affection?  Or do I risk making myself an enemy to probably everyone in this room, by dancing with that person?”

And Philippe chuckled, as he drew a hand over his face to try and hide himself.  Chevy could smell fruity aromas of wine coming through his mouth and nose, and Chevy thought he could get drunk just by this.

“I thought officers like you should demonstrate bravery and valor.”  Philippe said a moment later, leaning even closer, if that was even possible.  

“Well, then I must ask if you would honor me with the next dance.  I have to warn you though, you may not be able to dance with anybody else.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”  Philippe hummed.   

With that, Chevy led Philippe to the dance floor and started dancing to UB40’s reggae remake of a classic.   

 _Wise men say_ _  
_ _Only fools rush in_ _  
_ _But I can't help falling in love with you_ _  
_ _Take my hand_ _  
_ _Take my whole life too_ _  
_ _For I can't help falling in love with you_  

After a few dances and a few more drinks, Philippe was literally hanging on Chevy, his face buried in Chevy’s neck, their bodies touching at length.  If Chevy had ever experienced an arousal with Philippe simply touching him, his body was now fully awakened.  He did not know if Philippe noticed.  Philippe probably did.  But Chevy couldn't care and couldn't hide either.

 _I knew I loved you before I met you_ _  
_ _I think I dreamed you into life_ _  
_ _I knew I loved you before I met you_  
_I have been waiting all my life_

At one point, Philippe moved slightly and murmured into Chevy’s ear.  “You do know that I’m falling in love with you.”

And Chevy could not hear or feel anything else anymore. He was sure the band was still on with a heavy thumping bass vibrating through the entire mansion.  Sure that people around them were still singing and dancing.  Pretty sure that his lower body was still blood-flushed.  But all he could register in his brain was Philippe saying _I’m falling in love with you_.   

“I know.”  There was really nothing else Chevy could say.  

Philippe turned to gaze at Chevy’s eyes.  If Chevy could write poetry, he would probably write a dozen sonnets about how when their eyes met there were sparkles and fireworks and stardust.  But Chevy was no writer and there was something else more urgent than verses and rhymes.  Something that he wanted to do since that summer when he was almost fourteen.  

Then Chevy kissed Philippe.  

Their first kiss was nothing like Chevy imagined.  It was softer and sweeter.  It was luscious and velvety.  It was sharing breath laced with fruity aroma with the person you love.  It was drinking life from each other’s lips.  It was the first time Chevy truly saw Philippe.  It was every time Philippe touched Chevy’s hand.  It was everything that Chevy had ever dreamt of.   

 _Oh, once in your life you find someone_  
_Who will turn your world around_  
_Bring you up when you're feeling down_  
_Baby, you're all that I want_  
_When you're lyin' here in my arms_  
_I'm findin' it hard to believe_  
_We're in heaven_  
 

 


	8. Chevy is frozen and Philippe is on fire

Working on his sketches in the upper level living room at the Bourbon family chateau, Philippe looks out the window when he hears several cars pulling up the driveway.  

He has been anxious ever since Louis told him the entire Lorraine family are coming to stay for the weekend.  Of course, the Stuarts and Habsburgs will be coming too.  But there’s only one person on earth whose presence is his concern right now.  The only problem is, Philippe still doesn't know whether he wants to see this person or to avoid him.

Even though the port-cochere blocks part of his view, he can still see several familiar figures coming out of those cars, while butler Bontemps and his troupes are fussing over the arriving guests and their bags and dogs and everything.  When everybody has entered the chateau and Philippe still cannot see the person in question, he cannot contain his anxiousness.

_Maybe he isn’t coming after all.  Maybe he has decided to just walk out of your life completely.  Maybe he’s already met someone else and is holding-_

 

Philippe has to get out.  He walks out of the room and was heading to the main stairs, but suddenly makes a turn and starts walking towards a modest-looking door.  He opens the door and walks two storeys down the narrow wooden stairs, before arriving at Bontemps’ dominion.  He continues along the bustling corridors where helpers of the household are frantically carrying out duties.  He arrives at a small door, pushes it open, and walks right outside the chateau.

He lights a cigarette as he continues walking further and further away, passing the landscaped garden, until he reaches the historic stone bridge that leads down to the lake.  Philippe doesn’t know why his legs brought him here.  But now that he’s here he decides to stay for a while.  He hops onto the porch to sit, takes a long drag from his cigarette, then looks at the golden reflection of the afternoon sun shining onto the lake, and the lilac field on the opposite shore of the lake.

The last time he was at that field, he was seventeen.  He brought Chevy there together with a picnic basket, so that Chevy could study for his exams and Philippe could work on his sketches.  

 

“I think I’m going to apply for Parsons in New York.”  Lying on his stomach while madly sketching away, Philippe suddenly stopped and looked across at Chevy.

"Parisian schools not good enough for you?”  Chevy answered without looking up from his book.

“Not true, but I just want to get out of here, you know, away from Louis.”  Philippe turned around so that he was lying on his back, facing the sky.

Chevy put down his book to look at Philippe.  “I’m going wherever you’re going.”  Then he looked up to the sky too.  “I just need to make a lot of money.”

“Money to buy me jewels?”  Philippe’s eyes sparkled as he joked.

“Mignonette, you should know by now, that you are the brightest star wherever you go.  You don’t need any diamonds!”  Chevy teasingly ran a hand through Philippe’s hair and down his face, before placing a playful smooch on his lips.  Then he changed to a more serious tone and stared at Philippe.  “I want money to get us an apartment so that you don't have to depend on your brother.”

And Philippe’s world stopped.  Though they had known each other for a lifetime and had been officially dating for a year, they never really talked about the future.  And though Philippe never doubted Chevy’s feelings for him, Chevy never talked about them.  What Chevy just said was the most mature, solid promise Philippe had ever got.  Philippe secretly thanked the stars above.

Philippe closed his eyes and arched his neck.  “Kiss me.”

“Your wish, my command.”  Chevy leaned in and gave Philippe a powerful kiss that left him breathless.  That made Philippe feel his life was slowly seeping out of him.  That his soul was kidnapped through his mouth and into Chevy’s body. 

They continued the afternoon studying and sketching, with countless kisses in between. 

“What are all these drawings that you’re working on?”  Bored with his studies, Chevy turned to Philippe again.  

“Don’t peek.”  Philippe quickly tried to hide his work, but was a little late.

“Why not?  What are they?”  Chevy stood up and started walking, at the same time browsing through the few pieces of paper he snatched from Philippe.  

“They’re just- they’re not finished.  Give them back!”  Half ordering and half pleading, Philippe began chasing behind him.  

Chevy held them high above his head as he laughed and ran for his life.  A sudden breeze came and Chevy lost his grip.  Both of them watched as the drawings were blown onto the lake.  A petrified Chevy shot a glance at Philippe, then quickly ran towards the lake, taking off his shoes along the way.  

Realizing what Chevy was about to do, Philippe followed immediately behind.  “No, don’t jump!  I can draw again-”

But it was too late as Philippe saw him dive into the lake along with a loud splash.   _Mon Dieu!_  Philippe held his hands over his mouth as he watched intently, hoping to see Chevy pop back up.  

The Bourbon estate being away from the city, has always been more chilly than Paris city.  And even though it was already early Spring, Philippe was sure the lake water must still be close to freezing.

Minutes later, Chevy reappeared with some papers in his hand.  Philippe quickly grabbed the blanket they had been sitting on to wrap around him.  After drinking some hot tea, Chevy was still shivering.  “Those better be some damn good drawings.”

Philippe could feel his own face turn red.  “They’re just silly doodles.”  He said quietly as he lowered his head.  

Chevy arched his brow, raised a hand to turn Philippe’s chin towards him.  “Philippe, you’re blushing!  Don’t tell me you were drawing porn!”

“No, of course not!”  Philippe held up his head to protest, but eyes still avoiding Chevy. 

“Darling, tell me what those drawings are.”  Chevy cupped Philippe’s face with both hands, and pouted.  “Don’t I deserve to know what I risked my life for?”

And to that Philippe really could not say anything except tell the truth.  “I might have sketched some rooms of our future apartment.”  Philippe dropped his eyes to the floor.  “I told you they’re silly-”

“No.  It’s not silly at all.”  Chevy’s wide smile was replaced with an air of solemnity, as he used both hands to hold Philippe’s hands.  “Just know that wherever we go, you are my home.”

And right then Philippe had an epiphany.  He just cannot and will not spend a minute of his life without Chevy.  Until he breathes his last breath.    

The rush of emotions was so much that he had to pull Chevy in and kiss him.  The kiss revealed itself with a newfound urgency.  When they parted, both were catching their breaths, cheeks flushed pink and eyes burning with desire.  Chevy grabbed the front of Philippe’s t shirt and pulled him closer for another kiss.  When they finally broke apart for air, noses still touching, Philippe’s hands were hung over Chevy’s shoulders and Chevy’s hands were around Philippe’s waist.   

Not entirely sure what to do, Philippe stared into Chevy’s eyes, searching for an answer.  Flitting his gaze between Philippe’s eyes and lips, Chevy leaned forward for another kiss.  A kiss with a passion that answered Philippe’s unspoken question.  A kiss that answered all of his dreams, to be exact.   

They gathered all belongings hastily and started running back to the chateau.  Philippe dropped a quick note to Bontemps letting him know that they would skip dinner.  They could barely make it back to Philippe’s room as their hands let themselves run free over each other’s body.   

Once inside,  Chevy crowded Philippe towards the wall and planted butterfly kisses along his neck and collarbone.  Four shaking hands undressed each other and Philippe had never thought buttons could be so aggravating.  After what seemed to be an eternity of battling with buttons and zippers, Chevy slid a hand inside Philippe’s underpants, and Philippe made a sound that was a cross between a moan and a whimper.  Chevy looked completely wrecked.  He moved back up and drove his tongue inside Philippe’s mouth and Philippe made a soft whine that sounded obscene even to himself. 

Chevy grabbed Philippe’s arms to swing him around, and started walking towards the bed, their mouths locked without missing a beat.  Once their feet reached the edge of the bed, Chevy pushed Philippe down and practically jumped on top of him.  

That night, there were fingers digging into bedsheets and squeals muffled by pillows.  There was bending forward and arching back.  There was outright laughing and imploring sobs.  There was heavy panting and breathless gasps.  There were whispers of love and filthy moans.  There were stars erupting behind closed eyes and fireworks dancing in the sky.  

That night, Philippe was lost in his own room.  And together, they found a new meaning to their love.

The next morning, lying on the bed and too lazy to move, Philippe made a mental note on how their bodies fit perfectly entwined.  He wondered if this is what heaven would be like.  He quietly played the songs on his phone while Chevy was still sleeping.  

 _I’ll be your dream, I’ll be your wish, I’ll be your fantasy_  
_I’ll be your hope, I’ll be your love, Be everything that you need_  
_I'll love you more with every breath_  
_Truly, madly, deeply do_

  
“Good morning.”  Chevy said without looking at Philippe behind him.  Philippe suddenly understood how people could get an arousal just by hearing a voice.  

“Good morning.”  Philippe kissed Chevy’s hair and cuddled closer to his back.  “Tell me something terribly romantic.”  

Chevy turned his head to kiss Philippe properly.  They broke apart only to lock lips again.  Finally, he gazed into Philippe’s eyes.  “Henceforth, every day that I do not touch you, taste you, or feel you, will be a day of death and mourning.”  

 _Time to say goodbye._ _  
_ _Paesi che non ho mai_ _  
_ _veduto e vissuto con te,_ _  
_ _adesso si li vivrò._ _  
_ _Con te partirò_ _  
_ _su navi per mari che, io lo so,_ _  
_ _no, no, non esistono più,_  
_it's time to say goodbye._

 

Philippe is still sitting on the bridge, when he realizes he has run through an entire pack of smokes.  

If tears can drown a person internally, Philippe is sure that he is entirely swamped inside.  And if there’s anything he could do to go back to the day he last saw Chevy at their apartment, he is willing to do it.  He will risk his life to do it.  He is willing to kill someone if he has to.  Except that there’s absolutely nothing that he can do now to turn back time.  

He ignores the tears streaming down his face.  Instead, he holds up his head and closes his eyes to feel the evening breeze blowing on his face.  He wishes the wind could just blow him away.  Away from everything.  He wonders if Chevy remembers any of this, and to such detail.  If he would say the same thing to another-

 _Stop, Philippe.  You have a life to live._  

He takes a deep breath, hops down the bridge and drags his body back to the chateau.

 


	9. Chevy is in awe and Bontemps needs help

As the car is pulling up the driveway, Chevy is once again in awe of the magnificence of the Bourbon chateau.  It’s been quite a while since he was here last, not to mention that the situation now is very different.  

Knowing that he’s the latest to arrive, he’s not surprised when Bontemps’ assistant told him as he walked through the main door that dinner has already started.  Chevy tells him not to worry about dinner.  He would just go right to the room assigned for him.  

No stranger to how this chateau works, Chevy knows that dinner is a big event and the focus of every single member of the household would be the dining room.  So he is truly surprised when he heard a knock at his door and finds Bontemps himself standing there, holding a tray.  

“I brought you some hot soup.”  Bontemps puts down the tray on the small coffee table.  “You must be tired after a long flight and a long ride.”

“Thank you.”  Chevy is truly touched.  Bontemps has always been a sweet man.

“Monseigneur-”  Bontemps starts to say something, but stops.  

“Oh please just call me Chevy.”

“Monseigneur.”  Bontemps begins again, as if he has a script ready and cannot stray from it.  

“I’ve watched you grow up so I hope I could be allowed to say what I’m about to say.”  

Slightly taken aback by this unusual expression from someone whose biggest belief in life is ‘etiquette’, Chevy stays silent while looking at him.   

“I’ve worked for this family all my life and I love the boys like they’re my flesh and blood.”  Bontemps takes a deep breath and continues.  “I have never seen Philippe like the way he is now.  I don’t mean to pry and I certainly do not mean to judge.  I just…  I just want to ask you, if you would be able to do something?  Would you be one of the people who might be able to help?”

And Chevy did not know how to respond.  A man who has carried himself with an air of pride and a lot of dignity all his life, asking him for help.  

“I’ll see what I can do.”  Chevy could only say this without lying.

“Thank you, Monseigneur.”  Bontemps turns around and heads to the door, but suddenly stops at the door to turn back again.  “I hope that we’ll see you more often in this house in the future.”

 

Chevy doesn’t know what to make of it.  But if someone like Bontemps is asking him to talk to Philippe, then he supposes it’s a sign.  He quickly changes into something appropriate, and heads downstairs.

 


	10. Henriette sings and Philippe thinks she’s ok

After dinner, everybody moves to the Salons for games and entertainment.  Except Philippe, who drank more than ate during dinner, and sneaks out quietly to the verandah with wine in hand.  

“I don’t recall photos are needed for tonight.”  Philippe says once he sees Henriette approaching.

“I come in peace.”  Henriette holds up both her hands.

They both stand there looking out onto the vast darkness aimlessly.  Henriette is the one to speak again.  “How are you?”

Instead of answering, Philippe side eyes her with a frown.

“Look, I don’t know for sure because we don’t talk anymore, but I figured that you and Chevy are not in a very good place at the moment.”  A pause.  “So I just want to see how you’re doing.”

Philippe can’t say he’s not surprised by this.  The Henriette he knows normally only thinks about herself.  Or maybe she’s right.  They haven’t been friends for so long and Philippe doesn’t know that she’s changed.   But he’s too drunk to care now.

Henriette probably knows that Philippe will not be answering her questions, so she continues.  “I’m probably the least qualified person to give advice, but I really want to tell you something.”  She turns to face Philippe now.  “Don’t give up on love.  Do whatever you can to keep it.  Cherish it.  Even if it hurts you.  Even if it takes away your pride.”  

Taken aback by the slur of words that just came out from Henriette, Philippe is not sure whether she really means what she said, or she is just as drunk as he is.

She turns back to stare at the darkness.  “Remember when we were kids and we had to sit through mass, we would secretly talk about our dream future?  Well, I’m a hopeless case now but if you still have a chance for happiness, don't throw it away.  Be the one among the two of us who is able to find happily-ever-after!”

“Henriette… that was…”  Philippe is genuinely touched.  He doesn't know if he stands a chance for happiness now, but he feels a little more hopeful.  Feels that he has slightly more energy to go on.  “Thank you.”

“You’re still like a brother to me.”  She suddenly looks at him with smiling eyes.  “You know what?  We should sing a song together, just like old times.”  

_Yes, she’s definitely drunk._

“I never sang.  You did.”

“Ok, so I’ll lead and you can follow.  Trust me, you'll feel better.”  She puts her arm on his shoulder and sings.

 _What do you get when you fall in love?_ _  
_ _You only get a life of pain and sorrow_ _  
_ _So for at least until tomorrow_ _  
_ _I'll never fall in love again_  
_No, no, I'll never fall in love again_

If there are tears swelling around Henriette’s as well as his own eyes, Philippe pretends he doesn't notice.

 


	11. Chevy is frozen and Philippe is sorry

Chevy comes down to the salons and is immediately greeted by a very pregnant Marie Therese.  

“Chevy, we missed you during dinner.”

 “I’m sorry, something came up in New York.”  Chevy smiles, hoping to divert attention away from himself.  “You look fantastic.  Pregnancy suits you well!”

They are joined by Chevy’s sister in law Catherine, and two other ladies whose names Chevy has forgotten.  He then moves around several groups of people, with a few shots of Armagnac in between.

 

It is past midnight and most people have retired to their rooms.  Chevy downs one final shot and wandered around the house.  He finds himself in the ancestral gallery where close to a hundred paintings of the Bourbon ancestors are hanging on the wall.  He remembers when they were kids, Philippe’s mother would make Philippe come in here every time he did something wrong.  

He walks several steps before he hears someone approaching, and turns around.  It’s Philippe.  Whose wide-eyed surprise changes into a faint smile.  Chevy wonders how Philippe can look beautiful and radiant even in a dark hall at midnight.  

“How come you’re here?”  Philippe asks in a soft tender voice.  And Chevy suddenly realizes he misses the voice too.

“You mean in this room, or in this house?”

Philippe ignores the question and continues to walk closer, smiling.  When he stops just a few steps in front of Chevy, Chevy notices the blush on his face, and the floral and fruity scents of alcohol.

“One only comes to this room when one has to repent.”  A slightly malicious tone.

“Oh yeah?  Then why are you here?”  Chevy answers with a lightness that matches Philippe’s tone.  He doesn’t know why this feels so different from the last time they saw each other.  But he can’t say he’s not happy about it.  

“I came to confess to my ancestors.”

Chevy has to bite his lips to prevent himself from outright laughing.  At this moment he finds Philippe extremely cute.  “What have you done?”

“Oh, everything under the sun!”  Philippe fans his hand out and rolls his eyes.  He then looks at Chevy and place a finger on his own chin, eyes scanning from head to toe.  “Come to think of it, most of the mischiefs were done with you.  In some cases, you were the one who started it.”

“Like what?”  If things continue at this rate, Chevy’s not sure if he’s able to contain his fondness anymore.  

“Like that time when you told me to throw shampoo and soap over the fountain.”  Philippe continues with an animated expression.  “There were bubbles EVERYWHERE!”  

Chevy laughs.  Of course he remembers.  He even remembers the look on Anne’s face afterwards.  “Hey, you were the one who said that we have a notoriety to maintain.”

Philippe laughs too, as he squats to sit down on the floor, head leaning backwards on the wall.  Chevy looks at him and notices his tired eyes.  Chevy walks over and sits a few steps away from him.

“And do you remember the wine cellar?”  Philippe sounds a bit calmer now.

“You mean when we turned a whole section of bottles downside up?”  Chevy chuckles as he remembers the scene vividly.

“And Bontemps’ face when he found out!”  Philippe smiles and closes his eyes, seemingly quite proud of himself.  

“The things we did when we were young.”  Chevy says before stretching his arms and legs to lie down on the floor.

 

Chevy stares at the vaulted ceiling for a long time, and then turns to look at Philippe.  His dark curly hair, his long eyelashes, his soft face, his long arms wrapping around his even longer legs.  For a minute he wants to fake amnesia and just run to Philippe.  For a kiss, or a hug, or just to touch Philippe’s face.  

Suddenly Philippe shifts his body, eyes still closed.  Not wanting to be caught staring, Chevy quickly shuts his eyes.  He waits for quite a while, and almost wants to open his eyes before he hears the ruffle sounds of fabric.  Chevy makes it out to be Philippe moving his legs.  He waits some more to see if there’s any more movement, and then he hears Philippe’s voice.

 

“The truth is, I do have to repent.”  Philippe says in the lowest voice possible.   

A long pause.  Then a sigh.  

“I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done wrong, and all that I should have done but did not do.  I’m sorry I told you to leave when I wanted you to stay.  I’m sorry I didn't have the courage to call when I wanted to hear your voice.  I’m sorry I made you agree to paint the bedroom wall blue when you wanted it grey.  I’m sorry we never had a proper first date.”  Chevy can hear soft sobbing.  

“I feel like I set fire to my whole world and watched it burn.  I thought that if I can just bury my feelings, then I can get on with life.  I thought that if I can just stop thinking, then I can at least breathe.  But…”  Philippe is clearly crying now.

“I cannot.”  A long deep breath.  “I cannot even breathe.”

Silence.  Followed by footsteps walking away.  Then complete silence.  

 

Chevy does not move.  Cannot even if he wants to.  He just lies on the floor.  Frozen.  He’s not sure if what just happened was real or if he’s been dreaming it up.  He waits some more before opening his eyes.  He knows that Philippe has left the room, but Philippe is still on his mind.  Has always been on his mind.  Feeling more exhausted than ever, he stands up and walks back to his room.  

 


	12. Chevy loses it and Philippe doesn’t mind

The next morning when Chevy’s alarm goes off, he does not sleep back like he normally would.  Instead, he wakes up and gets dressed swiftly, then heads downstairs to join breakfast.  

When everybody’s almost finished and he still doesn’t see Philippe, he frets a little.  He cannot stop himself from going over to Bontemps.  “Have you seen Philippe this morning?”  

“I’m afraid not, sir.”  

Chevy goes up the stairs and heads to Philippe’s room.  The door is open and there’s nobody inside.  He continues to check a couple of more places inside the chateau, but to no avail.  Then he decides to stride out to roam the vast grounds around the estate.  

 

It’s late afternoon when Chevy walks past what used to be the glass house in the garden.  It is now slightly shielded by trees around it, and looks a bit abandoned.  Chevy hears music coming from inside so he walks closer, and sees some simple furniture, a drawing desk and a lot of colour paints and brushes scattered everywhere.  Then he sees Philippe sitting on the floor with a sketch board in hand, dark curls tousled.  The gleam of afternoon sun shining on him making his skin glow with radiance.  

 _You stress me out, you kill me_ _  
_ _You drag me down, you fuck me up_ _  
_ _We're on the ground, we're screaming_ _  
_ _I don't know how to make it stop_ _  
_ _I love it, I hate it, and I can't take it_  
_But I keep on coming back to you_

“Philippe, what are you doing here?”  Chevy cannot hide his surprise as he entered the glass house.

“Chev?  I… mostly live here now… What are you doing here?”  Philippe is even more surprised than he is.

“What do you mean you live here?”  Chevy continues, ignoring Philippe’s question.

“I mean I seldom go back to the house now.”  Philippe looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but then stops.

Chevy wants to ask whether Philippe goes back to their apartment or not.  He wants to know if Philippe is taking care of himself.  But that can wait.  “You were gone last night when I woke up.”  Chevy asks softly.

“Yes, I was tired and didn't want to wake you.”  Philippe drops his eyes to the floor.

“And I didn't see you the whole day, I mean, until now.”  

“I have… something came up...”  An almost apologetic tone.  Chevy takes it to mean that Philippe was avoiding him.  

Philippe’s expression suddenly changed as he lifted his eyes to Chevy.  “Were you looking for me?”

“Yes, I was.”  Firm and certain.

“What for?”

“I need to borrow something.  Your eau de parfum, actually.”  Chevy makes sure he sounds as casual as possible.  

“But don’t you have yours?”  Philippe looking as puzzled as ever.

“I do, but I still need to borrow yours.”

“Why?”  

Chevy takes a few steps forward and sits down on the floor next to Philippe.  Their shoulders and knees touching.  Chevy is sure Philippe can hear his heart pounding.  

“I need to spray it on my pillows so I can sleep at night.  I need to smell it on my shirt so I can feel you with me the whole day. I need it on my towels so I can imagine you wrapping your arms around me.”

Noticeably stunned, Philippe keeps quiet as tears start to pool around his eyes.  He’s not entirely sure if he’s dreaming or if this is actually happening.  If this is a dream, he doesn’t want to wake up ever again.  

Chevy stretches his hands out to cup Philippe’s cheeks.  “Unless you come back to my life, I’m afraid I need to keep borrowing it.”

 

And Philippe loses it.  He cannot control the tears coming down his face as he shakes involuntarily.  This is the day he’s been dreaming of for the past three months.  The man he’s dying to hold, caressing his face.  The love of his life, asking him to come back.  He feels like he needs to apologize, for the mess that he made.  “Chev, I’m sorry-”

But Chevy got to him first.  “No, my love, I’m sorry I ran away.”  Chevy gently caresses Philippe’s hair and places a soft peck on his forehead.  Philippe raises his eyes to meet Chevy’s, and then they kiss.

_So, baby, pull me closer_   
_In the back seat of your Rover_   
_That I know you can't afford_   
_Bite that tattoo on your shoulder_   
_Pull the sheets right off the corner_   
_Of that mattress that you stole_   
_From your roommate back in Boulder_   
_We ain't ever getting older_

As the kiss, started somewhat chaste, deepens, Philippe feels like he is a Disney princess who has found true love, at the same time like he is the prince who just been freed by a kiss.  He feels like every drop of breath is being sucked out of his body by this kiss, but at the same time his dear life depends desperately on this.

They finally break apart for air, and Chevy whispers lowly in his ear.  “Now, I only have one question, how much did you miss me?”  

 _Too much,_ Philippe wants to say.  But Chevy just slips a thigh between Philippe’s legs and wears a devilish smile on his face as Philippe arches up helplessly, all Philippe can do is to grip onto the back of Chevy’s shirt and kiss him again.

As they kiss, Chevy pushes him onto the floor and lands on top of him.  For a long time they just stay there, savouring and comforting each other, as four hands trace familiar routes that they have missed for so long, offering console to hair, necks, arms, chests, waists that have been neglected for what seems like an eternity.

Chevy slides a hand into Philippe’s back pocket and grabs his butt closer, rubbing his own hardening member against the front of Philippe’s jeans, and Philippe is. Just. Not. Ready. For. This.  Using as much strength as he can muster, Philippe tangles a hand into Chevy’s hair and bites into the curve between his shoulder and his neck.  He means to make Chevy swoon, but as a Chevy lets out a soft and breathy, positively sinful sound, every fiber of his own being goes weak.

Philippe’s jeans are getting tighter, but Chevy’s hands are tracing up and down his hips and inner thighs with practised prowess, ghosting over the swell of his butt in between, and it’s just too much for Philippe.  He closes his eyes for a second because the whole world is spinning and he just doesn’t know anything anymore.  When he opens his eyes again and sees the statue of Cupid and Psyche, he suddenly remembers that they are in the glass house.  

“Chev,”  A breathless and cracked voice because Chevy is now planting deadly kisses along the side of his neck.  “We’re… This is… glass house.”

“Darling,”  Chevy’s raspy voice sounds as done as Philippe’s.  “The danger of being caught is half the fun.”  And as Chevy gazes up to give him a deadly stare, it is as if Chevy’s eyes are undressing him.  And he needs Chevy to be naked yesterday.  

But before he can manage so much as to lift a finger, there are gentle hands taking off his shoes and socks, nudging his legs apart, and unbuttoning his jeans.  He can’t help lifting his head to peek.  Chevy is now dragging the zipper down torturously slow and Philippe can feel hot fingers dancing over his thinly veiled erection, sending a million different cues to his entire body, and he is just.  Gone. 

Philippe falls back down, wondering how his boyfriend since age sixteen can make him feel so brand new.  Except that he can’t think anymore as suddenly his jeans and briefs are yanked away and the next second Chevy’s hot, wet mouth is encompassing his cock, sucking his brains out like his life depends on it.  And as Chevy swallows him all the way down and comes back up, Philippe can’t think, or see, or feel anything except that ruthless rhythm grinding at him, and his own defenseless moans.          

Tangling his fingers at Chevy’s hair, he tugs Chevy’s head up desperately.  Chevy’s mouth slides out slowly, cheeks still hallowed like a kid who is enjoying the last lick from his lollipop.  Philippe surges forward to kiss him, and Chevy meets him in the middle.

“Now.”  Philippe finally manages after an eternity of wet and sloppy kissing, voice strangled with want.  

“Your wish, my command.”  Chevy smirks like he can’t wait to wreck Philippe.  And Philippe is fascinated with this newfound lust he has for his boyfriend.  He doesn’t know why people, anybody, wouldn’t just get aroused by merely a look from Chevy.   

Again, Philippe’s thinking has to stop because Chevy’s trousers are coming off and his cock, hard and long, has just been set free.  It’s Chevy who’s getting undressed but Chevy’s flirtatious stare makes Philippe’s soul feel being fucked.  Philippe has to close his eyes because he just cannot handle this right now.  Everything is just so, so hot.  Feverish hot.  “Lube… Drawer…”  Philippe can only mumble as much.   

He feels his world slows down slightly for about a second as he hears the drawer being opened and closed.  But there isn’t enough time for repose, as he hears the bottle pops open and lube being squirted out.  He opens his eyes to find Chevy just as done as he is, eyes dark with thirst.  

It’s not like this is their first time so Philippe shouldn’t be so in the dark as to what’s going to happen next.  But it’s been too long and Philippe isn’t in the position to think straight now.  Hell, he doesn’t even know his left from right now.  So he bites his own lower lip and whines all the same when Chevy slowly pushes a single long finger inside of him, feeling the burn and not nearly enough.  His moans grow even more helpless as the second finger got into him.  Philippe flutters his eyes and whispers, “Chev.”  When the fingers move, Philippe really thinks he might come, but Chevy stops right on time.

“Ready?”  Chevy asks, voice even coarser than before.

But Philippe’s voice is long gone, so he answers by grabbing Chevy’s hip and pressing himself closer to Chevy, cocks rubbing against each other.  And that’s it. Chevy goes in. Slow. As. Fuck.

By this time, the sky has gone dark and there’s zero light in the glass house so the only light is coming from the distant lamps outside in the garden.  Not that Philippe needs light.  He feels his own stretch around Chevy’s length, and for a second, he is remembering again how enormous Chevy is.  How he feels complete everytime Chevy is inside him.  

He cannot really register Chevy’s filthy remarks murmured towards his neck and collarbone, because the scorching burn inside him just shut his brain completely.  Philippe clutches to Chevy’s shoulders desperately and whimpers, as Chevy struggles to take off his own shirt and then Philippe’s.

“Move.”  What could have been an instruction now sounds like a plea.

And for a second Philippe misses the weight and heat over his upper body, as Chevy steadies himself to sit upright.  Before he knows it, Chevy is pulling out slowly and steadily, until he’s almost completely exposed.  And then he thrusts backs in.  Fast and hard.  Again and again.  Philippe closes his eyes and opens them again, as he practically cries.  He doesn't know how there are stars dancing behind his eyes.  He doesn't know why the room is burning.  He doesn't know anything at all.  

He faintly hears Chevy chanting an eloquent string of swear words and _so tight_ and some more swear words.  Philippe wants to call out Chevy’s name, wants to recite a poem for him, wants to tell him _I love you_ , but every time he tries to open his mouth, he feels their hips colliding and all he can hear is his own panting sobs.  So he claws his fingers at Chevy’s skin instead, as he looks on, awestruck, at the love of his life and the man in his dreams.  

Chevy in action is a man possessed.  Eyes dark with lustful determination, hair disheveled in the sexiest mess possible, firm and knowing hands arousing Philippe’s body in a way only he knows, and experienced tongue leaving different shades of shadows across Philippe’s body.

Philippe arched his hips up, yearning to get closer if that’s even possible.  It’s Chevy’s turn to cry out loud.  “So close,”  Chevy hisses, voice breaking.  “So fucking close.”

Philippe hangs on to Chevy as the man gets into a merciless momentum.  He was going to ask but Chevy is ahead of him, gripping him tight and sliding fast up and down.  And everything is spinning again, and it’s white hot, and there are fireworks, and there’s Cupid and Psyche, and Philippe’s head is dancing, and-

 _FUCK_.

 

They lay there, spent and consumed, limbs entwined, for God knows how long.  Philippe curls his fingers into Chevy’s hair and pulls the man into his chest.  He is thinking that he will never let go, now that he’s got Chevy back.  He considers gluing his fingers there forever.

“Can't breath…”  Words muffled, and Philippe loosens his grip a bit.  “And I think we actually have to go to your brother’s banquet, like, now.”

“Damn.  Do we really have to go?”  

Suddenly Chevy props himself up and beams at Philippe.  “I got you something so I think you’ll want to go.”  

“What is it?”  Trying to look indifferent, Philippe secretly wonders how this man can make him fall in love over and over again.  

“You’ll find out.  I actually rushed back out to the city from the airport to get this.  That’s why I had to change to a later flight.”

_How can you not love this man?_

“Alright, I suppose we should get going then.”

They get dressed and start heading back to the chateau.  They keep quiet during the walk, but once their feet are on the cobblestoned driveway in front of the house, Chevy stops Philippe by grabbing his hand.  “Does this mean I don’t need to borrow your parfum anymore?”  

Philippe smiled.  “No, because I want to smell my boyfriend’s cologne when I kiss him.”

Chevy breaks into a wide grin before he closes their distance with a slow and lingering kiss.  Philippe thinks that at this rate, they probably cannot make it to the banquet at all.  Not that he minds.  But there are certain things that they must do, and he’s also dying to see what Chevy got him.  So he takes Chevy’s hand and leads him to the small back entrance of the chateau.

 

 


	13. Chevy is a movie star (isn’t he always?) and Philippe is glowing

When Philippe arrives at the banquet hall, dinner has obviously started.  There must be over 40 people sitting at the big long table.  But the fact that Philippe is fashionably late is no news to anybody, and people are busy talking anyway, so none of them pay any attention to him.  Except Henriette, who is sitting next to the empty chair that belongs to Philippe.

“Nice blouse.”  Henriette gives him an eye-over before Philippe sits down.

Quite happy and proud about the compliment, Philippe says a quiet, “Thanks.”  

“You’re glowing.”  

Philippe takes a quick glance at himself and cannot suppress his smile.  The white Marc Jacobs tie-neck blouse with black spots and puff sleeves is the perfect match to the flowy black ankle-length wide-leg pants.  He is pleased not only because Chevy went out of the way to get him this, _which is very endearing_ , but also that he genuinely likes this outfit, a lot.  He’s so glad he’s got his favourite black high top boots here with him to match.

As the servers fuss over him with napkin and water and wine, he steals a glance towards the far end of the table, where Chevy is sitting.  Chevy’s talking to the person next to him, so Philippe cannot see his face in full.  Dressed in a slim fit black suit with an open shirt, blonde hair now impeccably groomed matching his light beard, Chevy looks like the perfect reincarnation of a sexy movie star.  Philippe thinks he was insane to have almost lost this man for good.  He takes out his phone to text Lizzie.

 

Any Bourbon banquet would not be anything shorter than twelve courses, and Chevy knows this one is no exception.  It’s going to be a long night.  He doesn’t really mind, because he just got back together with the love of his life over a steamy afternoon.   _Life cannot be sweeter than this._  Suddenly his phone vibrates and he looks at the screen.  It says Mignonette with a picture of him and Philippe together.  

“Why are you calling me?”  Lowering his voice, Chevy tries to sound as serious as he can, but the corners of his mouth just twitched into a smile.  

“No reason.  Just want to hear your voice.”  

“Are you sure it’s only my voice that you want and nothing else?”  Chevy teases, and flashes his eyes across the long table towards Philippe, who is looking at him.  He then picks up a fresh oyster from his plate and fucking licks at it, before opening his mouth slowly to swallow it, all the while maintaining eye contact with Philippe.  He is sure he can see red colour rising up Philippe’s cheeks as the latter puts down the phone and looks away to hide his smile.     

A little while later, his phone vibrates again.  This time he decides to do his poker face.  “Hello?”

“Oh hello, is this Philippe de Lorraine?”  

_What the f-?_

“Y… e… s…”  Nobody has ever called him by his proper full name ever since he was maybe three.  Chevy is slightly confused, but decides to play along.

“I’m Philippe de Bourbon.  Do you remember me?  We used to play together when our mothers had tea.”

“Sure I remember you, Philippe de Bourbon.”

“Good, good.  I, ar…  I heard you’re in town from New York, and I’m wondering…  I mean…  If you would be interested…  You know… If your time allows…  To maybe hang out together?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”  Chevy asks out loud, but becomes flustered as he realizes several people nearby are now staring at him.

“Well, yeah, and hopefully the first of many.”  

Chevy shoots a quick glance over at where Philippe is sitting, but Philippe must be deliberately not looking at his direction.  “My flight doesn’t leave till 7pm so I guess we have time.”

Philippe sounds like he just lets out a breathe he’s been holding.  “Great!  How about I pick you up tomorrow, say 10am?”  

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Good, um…  I mean, see you tomorrow.”

“A demain.”

 

Chevy continues the dinner as if none of that happened.  But once all the twelve courses have been served and people start to move into the other rooms for drinks, he walks over to Philippe, who is waiting for him next to the door, biting his lips.  Chevy scans him from head to toe, with a devilish glint in his eyes.  “Don’t you look handsome and pretty!  Tell me, do you enjoy playing dress up?”  

“My boyfriend got this for me.”  Philippe pretends to shrug but his eyes shift to Chevy’s lips.

“Then does he like you in this look?”

“I don’t know, but I’m hoping it will send vibes to his-”  Philippe darts his eyes to below Chevy’s waist, then lifts his gaze back up to Chevy’s eyes, “Eyes.”  

“I’m sure it’s doing funny things to his… (cough)...  brain.”  They share an impish grin together.  

Chevy's hand reaches for Philippe’s and laces their fingers together, then he bends his own elbow to the back so that Philippe’s arm now wraps around Chevy’s waist, locked.  Chevy then slowly goes in for a heated kiss.  They stand there kissing, like kissing is all they ever do.  Like they are on a mission to make everyone in the room go green with envy.  Philippe feels a warm shiver travel from his head down to his spine.  He is still dizzy when Chevy pulls away for air, and for a minute he completely forgets where they are and what they’re doing.  Only when he sees Bontemps’ face he remembers he has something important to do.  He puts a hand on Chevy’s chest while still leaning on him.  “Hey, I have to leave now.  I got something big in the atelier that I need to finish.”  

“You sure?  Can I help?”  Chevy sounds like he’s trying to hide his disappointment.

“No, I mean, I need to do it alone.  I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”  

“OK.”  

Philippe kisses Chevy goodbye, and then walks towards the main door, with Bontemps following closely behind.  

Then he suddenly swings back to where Chevy is.  “Thank you for the outfit.  I really love it.”  He plants a chaste kiss on Chevy’s lips.  “And in case I forgot to mention, I love you.”

“I know.”  Chevy smiles a ray of sunshine into Philippe’s kiss.

 

 


	14. The First Date

The next day at exactly 9:58am, there’s a knock on Chevy’s room door.  

“Hi.”  He opens the door to find Philippe, looking fresh and perfectly groomed, in an open shirt and tight jeans.  He wants to kiss Philippe already.

“Hi.  Are you ready?”

“You are two minutes early.”  

“Am I?  Sorry, my passion got over me.  Terrible habit.”

 _Why does he look so cute now?_ Chevy wants to laugh, but tries desperately hard to keep a blank face.  “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“You’ll find out.”  Philippe winks as he leads Chevy downstairs to where a car’s waiting.  

A vintage peacock blue Citroen DS Cabriolet convertible, to be exact.  Chevy arches his brow and side eyes Philippe.  “New car?”

Philippe lets out a slightly embarrassed laugh.  “I asked Bontemps to get a car for today and I think he got carried away.”  He opens the door for Chevy before striding over to the driver’s side.  He revs up the engine and music fills the air.  Chevy finds it all pretty corny but at the same time terribly cute.

  _Do that to me one more time_  
_Once is never enough with a man like you_  
_Do that to me one more time_  
_I can never get enough while I got you near_  
_Kiss me, like you just did_  
_Oh baby, do that to me once again_

The first stop is the Cimetiere du Pere Lachaise, where they stroll and admire different crypts and monuments.  Philippe suddenly stops in front of a small and obscure gravestone.

 **_Be sure, wherever I may roam,_ **  
**_my heart is with your heart at home._ **

“Bittersweet!  I can’t imagine what that person must have gone through.”

“I like it though.  Home is where you heart is.  That’s what I always say.”  Chevy notices the sudden sadness in Philippe’s eyes.  “I’m sure they'll be together again when it all ends.”  Attempting to change the mood, Chevy adds.  “Should we look to reserve a space big enough for both of us?”

“We’re on our first date and you talk about being buried together?”  Philippe fake teases him.

“It never hurts to dream.”  Chevy gives him a wicked smile.  Philippe is about to lean in for a kiss when Chevy puts a hand on his chest to stop him with a stern face.  “Ah uh… I don't kiss on the first date.”  

Philippe rolls his eyes.  “Maybe you’ll change your mind later.”  

“Perhaps.”  Chevy likes the sound of this.

They head back to the car to continue the day.  The warm summer breeze is blowing through their hair and there’s sunlight on trees and green grass everywhere.  For a moment, Chevy really does feel like he is falling in love with the city for the first time.   _Well, with the city and with the guy._  They stop by Parc des Buttes Chaumont for a picnic, before visiting one of the independent movie theatres to watch a classic starring a teenage Sophie Marceau.  Chevy feels fifteen again.  

 _Dreams are my reality_ _  
_ _I like to dream of you close to me_ _  
_ _I dream of loving in the night_ _  
_ _And loving you seems right_  
_Perhaps that's my reality_

In the darkness of the theatre, Chevy tries to stay focused.  He keeps telling himself not to turn his head towards Philippe, but his eyes betray him.  The flicker of light from the screen shining on Philippe’s face makes him look angelic, highlighting his sharp nose and blue eyes.  It dawns on Chevy that he will never grow tired of looking at this beautiful face.  That he will always find this face the most beautiful he’s ever seen.  

Chevy may have stared for too long as Philippe suddenly turns to look at him.  There’s tenderness in his eyes and Chevy just cannot hold himself any longer.  He moves closer, stretches a hand to his boyfriend’s face and goes for a kiss.  Philippe meets him halfway with a passion that matches his.  When they finish the kiss with a few lingering pecks, Philippe smirks.  “I thought you said you don’t kiss on your first date.”

“Don’t look so smug!”

 

After the movie, they are walking back to the car when Philippe’s phone rings.  He answers the call.  “Uh uh… Ok… Alright.”  He then turns to Chevy.  “I have to go back to the atelier.  Do you want to come with me?”

“Why not?”  

They’re at the door of the atelier when Philippe suddenly stops.  “Shit, I forgot my phone.  Why don’t you go in first?”  He then scoots away and is out of sight the next minute.

At first he finds it a little strange when he hears music through the door.   _Maybe Philippe forgot to turn it off last night._  It’s not like Chevy has never been to the atelier so he opens the door and walks in.  Chevy hears his favourite acoustic cover with two guys singing a love song.

 _I'll let you set the pace_ _  
_ _'Cause I'm not thinking straight_ _  
_ _My head's spinning around I can't see clear no more_  
_What are you waiting for?_

First he notices the countless strings of fairy lights dangling down from all across the ceiling.  Then he sees drawings hanging in mid-air throughout the entire room.  He walks under the lights like he’s in a forest of willow trees.  As he continues his way across the atelier, he gets closer to the sketches and sees different scenes of Philippe and him from the past.  The first time Philippe holds his hand; the first time they slow danced together; that time when they kissed and Chevy thought he might faint; when Chevy stole Hermia’s dress; when they were on a field of lilac; their first night together; when they were studying in New York together; the day they moved into their apartment at Places des Vosges; with Cupid and Psyche yesterday.

“Those are very special moments in my life.”  Philippe suddenly announces from the door.

Completely absorbed into the sketches, Chevy is so startled that he practically jumps.  He turns around to face Philippe with wide eyes.

“All through these events, I have always had the same thing on my mind.”  Philippe smiles at him while continuing to walk closer until they are inches apart.  

“I thought about taking your hand,”  Philippe reaches for Chevy’s hand.

“Look you in the eye,”  then stares into Chevy’s soul.

“And say,”  Chevy feels something being slipped onto his ring finger, _Oh- OH!_  but his eyes are locked with Philippe’s so he cannot tear them away.    

“Will you marry me?”

Chevy is beyond stunned.  He’s not used to being on the receiving end of a surprise.  And he can’t say this isn’t the happiest surprise in his life.  He stands numbed without realizing there are tears around his eyes.  Philippe’s eyes are turning watery too, but Chevy is too gone to notice.  

“Are you going to give me an answer?”  Philippe asks softly.

“Yes.”  A soft whisper.  Then Chevy pulls Philippe close and lunges at him for a kiss.  

The kiss turns into a slow dance, and Philippe rests his head on Chevy’s shoulder.  The sky has turned dark outside the window, when Philippe suddenly remembers.  “Not that I want you to go, but I think you have a flight to catch.”

“Nevermind, I will call my brother later.  I'll just tell him I’m not going back to New York.”

“Hey, I can go to New York too if you want.”

“We can talk about that later.  Now we have an urgent matter to attend to.”

Philippe giggles as Chevy slides a hand inside his back pocket and pulls him closer.  

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Exactly one year later, Philippe wakes up to sunlight coming through the windows onto the bed.  He looks to the side and finds that Chevy is still sleeping.  Philippe secretly admires his husband for being able to look sexy even when he is sleeping.

He looks across the room and sees the wall full of photos taken on their wedding day, courtesy of Lizzie.  There’s Henriette’s happy tears; the two mothers beyond ecstatic; Bontemps with a rare display of emotions; and Lizzie even snapped a few selfies with her new girlfriend.  

He walks across to the window and looks down on Battery Park.  He sees joggers, people queuing up for the ferry to Statue of Liberty, cyclists doing their rounds, parents pushing baby prams.  He plays soft music through his phone.

 _More than words_  
_is all you have to do to make it real_  
_Then you wouldn't have to say_  
_that you love me_  
_Cause I'd already know_

“Chev, get up.”

“Um.”  Chevy rolls to the other side and continues his sleep.

“Hey, can we start thinking about kids?”

Chevy smiles with eyes still closed.  “Your wish, my command.”  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! This is my first fanfic so halfway through, I actually wasn't sure what I was doing. Please leave a review, or even just a few words. Hit me!


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